Flare
by Stephane Richer
Summary: As a child on earth, Tatsuya always hoped he would become an angel someday, that he'd sprout soft white wings and take up to heaven and be happy.


Flare

Disclaimer: don't own

Notes: Day 4 of the 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge by ghiraher on tumblr: angel/demon

* * *

Tatsuya leans back on his hands against the rock; it's been almost a full year since he's been back on earth, a revolution around the sun later and this spot hasn't changed at all. Perhaps the leaves are arranged differently on the trees; perhaps the water of the brook has worn away the rocks a little more, and perhaps the breeze comes from a slightly different direction but it's not hard to imagine that he's a child again, that he has not sprouted these scaly translucent wings, that his magic comes in small bursts when it comes at all, that if he drifts off into sleep he will wake up and he will not feel this coldness, this detachment inside of him.

He's managed to shake off the other demons; it wasn't too hard to convince them to go off and make mischief without him, to try and tilt the world in the direction of malaise and evil. They can manage just fine without him for a day or so and he's got personal business to take care of—they support his decision, even if they do not understand or even fully condone it. Tatsuya sighs, stretching his wings out behind him, fluttering them in anticipation.

What if Taiga does not appear? He always does, but every year he is later and later; every year Tatsuya wonders if this is the last, if their farewell was a bit too long, if the look in Taiga's eyes is something different, that his resolve is not to make this realm a better place but to leave Tatsuya's arms and not return the next time. What if he has forgotten Tatsuya? Heaven sounds like an awfully wonderful place, a place where one could forget all of one's troubles—the angels don't have troubles, though, do they? They give and receive love, and no matter how fiercely they love others they still have enough love left to give to everyone else. It must be nice to have love so pure that it never runs out, never mixes with resentment and envy and anger—it's odd that Tatsuya can love at all (demons aren't supposed to, after all) and sometimes he just chalks it up to fooling himself, to wanting so desperately to be able to that he confuses his other feelings for love, the way his human teachers always described it to him, the fleeting wonder and the painful ache. Perhaps Taiga has found someone more worthy of his love, more whole and pure and warm and less bitter and cold, someone who can receive and reciprocate properly. Perhaps there are urgent, more pressing matters for Taiga to attend to—the greater good of the world, others who need love more.

And yet, no matter how wasted Taiga's love for him is, he wants it, craves it, all of it—the more there is, the more he wants. He flaps his wings and rises into the air but it does nothing to quell the rising emotions inside of him; the air around him freezes and shatters with a shrill shriek, uncontrolled but unimpressive. He is weak; when he accounts for every bit of his power he can make beautiful disasters but like this he's just wasting precious energy. He flounces back down, hovering above the rocks before he lands lightly, balancing on the tip of a sharp one.

He feels Taiga before he sees him; the warmth in the air and the way the energy seems to pick up in everything around them is a dead giveaway and it gives him proper time to shield his eyes—but it's still not a warning to how bright Taiga has become, how he shines from within. It's not the afternoon sunlight coming through the clouds and shining off of him; he just radiates light and heat even through his clothes; his hair looks like pure fire (well, what Tatsuya can stand to look at) and his wings almost burn Tatsuya's eyes from the distance. Tatsuya breathes; his throat is suddenly very dry and his heart is beating faster. He sinks to his knees; Taiga's too much for him to get used to this quickly. It's worse than the most fearsome demon in the realm; at least that energy is compatible with his own. This is opposite; the discomfort is lodged deep within him like a thorn that has wormed its way through his veins and is now stabbing his lungs, dulled but still impossible to ignore.

And then Taiga is hovering in front of him; Tatsuya's heart is beating faster and he stands, flaps his wings behind him.

Taiga breathes his name and then Tatsuya is in his arms, surrounded by the heat and despite the pain it feels so damn good—Taiga's strength, even greater than last year, and the softness of his lips and cheek against Tatsuya's neck, the firmness of his shoulder under Tatsuya's hand and the harmony of their beating wings, the beautiful energy that Taiga radiates being this close to him, the health and purity and absolute color of Taiga—he has waited almost a whole year to feel this again.

"Taiga, Taiga, I missed you so much."

And Taiga looks at him with tenderness and absolute joy in his eyes and it's like Tatsuya's falling for him all over again; a face and body and heart like this can't help but draw attention and attraction and love. Even Tatsuya is not immune; he feels something inside him start to thaw and he shudders.

"Are you all right?" Taiga murmurs, hand on the small of Tatsuya's back.

"Yes."

* * *

Their bodies are cacophonous against each other, Taiga's light illuminating the cave and throwing shadows of the both of them across the walls, distorting them the way the years have distorted and tangled the feelings between them until they're unrecognizable as what they originally were.

Tatsuya feels as if he's melting like a candle; Taiga's hands grip his hips painfully hard and searing and he cries out not just because of the pleasure but because of the pain, the way his flesh seems to sizzle, how much Taiga overpowers him—they've always been able to counter each other before, Tatsuya's cold neutrality against Taiga's fierce passion, but Tatsuya's both caught up in Taiga and destroyed by him; his hands slacken against Taiga's back and his wings flutter against the ground and he cannot keep his eyes open; he feels like he's going to black out before it's over and it's a mercy when it is, when he has enough time to lie still and gather himself together, when Taiga's arm is against his side but his turbulence has been calmed and he is sleeping. His wing unfurls fully to cover them both, touching Tatsuya's side softly. It does not wither and die against his touch; Taiga has never been affected by that the way the grass and the butterflies have—Tatsuya always thought it was because he was special, but perhaps it is because of the sheer power difference between them.

* * *

As a child on earth, Tatsuya always hoped he would become an angel someday, that he'd sprout soft white wings and take up to heaven and be happy—but he should have known then that this would never come to pass. Alex had tried to temper his expectations with caution and he should have listened to her; he knew that he was selfish but at the same time he still hoped. Taiga gave him that hope with his assurance, talking of when they both would be angels together in the skies.

Now they do not speak of what did not occur, what might have been; it remains deeply buried in both of their minds beneath their present occupations and beneath acceptable feelings—perhaps this desire has been eclipsed completely in Taiga's mind; Tatsuya almost doesn't want to know.

He pops the large welt on his right hip; the throbbing pain overtakes him for a few minutes while he lies and stares up at the dark ceiling. This can't go on for much longer—but he'd rather die burned up into ashes in Taiga's arms because to go on living without him would leave him too empty.

Demons are supposed to be empty like that, but Tatsuya doesn't care. The prospect is too grim; he cleans off his hip and limps back over to Taiga. Sleep will heal him and he will wake up surrounded by Taiga's breathing and his eyes will be in front of Taiga's smile and that's all that really matters right now.

* * *

Notes:

I've only had brief encounters with angel/demon mythos, and each one has been a bit different so this is kind of a hodgepodge


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